


Daddy Stole Papa's Car

by Crazyaniknowit



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Implied Pregnancy, Keith is going through a lot, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mostly Canon Compliant, POV First Person, Sad with a Happy Ending, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Unconventional POV, allura is alive, diary-like format, no actual dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:54:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyaniknowit/pseuds/Crazyaniknowit
Summary: So I heard you found somebody elseAnd at first I thought it was a lie ~I don't want your bodyBut I hate to think about you with somebody elseOur love has gone coldYou're intertwining your soul with somebody else





	Daddy Stole Papa's Car

**Author's Note:**

> _(Summary from **Somebody Else- The 1975**...seriously listen to it it's exactly what that fucking ending made me feel)_  
> I stayed up till 3 in the morning writing this and crying lol. I was just...feeling Keith angst.

I love you.  
  
Why isn't that _enough?_  
  
Why is it that Shiro returned feels less like Shiro than your _clone_ did? Why is it, that when I woke from my injuries at the hands of that mysterious robeast, Shiro...you were nowhere to be seen?  
  
Why aren't you talking to me anymore?  
  
It's like our friendship, our _relationship_ , has trickled through my fingers like fine sand and I can't keep ahold of it.  
  
Why, when you told us to go spend time with our loved ones, did you not follow me when I had once known without a doubt that you would? Why did I spend that evening watching the sunset alone with my wolf?  
  
I thought you just needed space...this feels like something more, like we're going our separate ways. Why _don't_ I feel like you'd never give up on me anymore?  
  
You've been my constant for years.  
  
Why are you going away?

* * *

  
Why...why now, after you've pulled so far away, would you ask me something like that? When you know how I feel...why... _how could you_ ask me, the one you know loves you more than anything in the universe, to be your best man? To watch you marry someone else, to watch you give your heart away when I _thought-_  
  
I thought it might have been offered so freely to _me_. I thought you were different. When I said I loved you...I thought, for a moment in time - mere moments those days seem like when when I look back - that you loved me too.  
  
I guess I was wrong.  
  
Why did I say _yes?_  
  
I don't understand me. I don't understand _you_.  
  
Where did you go?  
  
Did the real Shiro truly die when you were transferred into this body?  
  
Or was I just a foolish boy this whole time? Endlessly infatuated with you and giving _everything_ I had for you.  
  
You never even had the decency to talk to me about our fight...about the permanent reminder that crests my cheek. I don't blame you for it...but...but I wish you had acknowledged it _at all_. Just...just a simple sorry could have meant _everything_ to me. Why the silence?  
  
After I gave every fiber of my being for you...  
  
I'm not saying I would take it back, because I never could. I can't take back the fact that I love you, or that I would save you as many times as it takes. _Always_.  
  
But...  
  
Seeing you now, smiling and kissing another man when for such a brief, beautiful time in my life, I had imagined _that_ could be me...  
  
I can't breathe. My _heart_ hurts. I didn't know it was possible to hurt this much. Having quintessence drained from my very being didn't come close.  
  
I don't want to be here anymore...seeing you is like salt in a wound and-  
  
Fuck.  
  
I can't stand it.  
  
I can't...I'm...I'm leaving. I won't stay for the reception. I have to _go_.  
  
I know I'll never be able to stay away, because if you ever truly need me I'll come running, it's been woven into my very nature. It's a habit I'll never break. But for now...you're hurting me and you don't even seem to _realize_.  
  
You carved a hole into my very being and sequestered yourself there almost a decade ago. You were the first person to truly _see_ me since my pop died, the first to give me what I needed...a _chance_.  
  
And then...  
  
It's like you stole me away bit by bit and once I finally belonged so wholly to you...I suddenly ceased to exist in your eyes. I'm transparent again, you see right through me now. Maybe that's what happened. Maybe to you, I've regressed into something that you can take for granted.  
  
And I'm not saying that I need you to be _with_ me to be happy. I'm not saying I need to be the one in your bed or the one you kiss soft and tender just because you love me...but my heart...seeing...knowing you do this with _somebody else..._  
  
If you at least were as warm to me as you used to be... _maybe_ then I could stand it.  
  
Maybe I'm not sad that you're with him.  
  
Maybe I'm sad...because you had me convinced that you would always be there for me.  
  
And now you're not.  
  
Just like I once told myself you would do. I suppose I was a fool to have believed otherwise for so long...in the end _everyone_ does it. In the end...  
  
You gave up on me.

* * *

  
You know sometimes a hole in one's heart can't be filled?  
  
I've tried. How long has it been... _three years?_ And even though I bury myself in work, in other men, nothing helps. I smile when I work, spreading aid and peace across the universe, I moan and plead when I get fucked, but at the end of the day...  
  
I'm _hollow_.  
  
The space you left in me is so big I can't seem to fill it. It echoes like an endless void.  
  
I cry when I'm alone sometimes, after I get home, after my one night stands leave. I don't _want_ to see you again. I don't want to see you smiling with a ring on your finger and seemingly no recollection of how entwined our souls used to be. The reunion is coming up, and each time I feel more of an outsider than the rest. I don't want to _go_.  
  
I feel like an asshole for doing it.  
  
Though a part of me is sure I won't be missed.  
  
I'm not going.

* * *

  
You sent me a message.  
  
You...sent me a message, after _three years_ of radio silence.  
  
You know I stared at my communique for _hours_. And I almost caved to you, I _almost_ sent a reply.  
  
In the end I deleted it.  
  
_How am I doing?_  
  
I'll tell you someday, Shiro. Because I can't answer you truthfully right now.

* * *

  
I think I'm the epitome of someone who can't let go. Or maybe I'm just too afraid to love again the way I love you. And because of that, my mother says my smiles are empty. She says I'm too sad. She's right but I assure her of the opposite. I don't want her to worry.  
  
I don't see _her_ all that often either...and in all honesty? I'm terrified of her eventually leaving me too. Because you did. _You left me, Shiro._  
  
Fuck. _Stop_. I don't want to think about that anymore.  
  
It's hard to forget you.  
  
I've been _trying_.

* * *

  
Lance and Allura called me, asked me if I changed my communication code. Lance shouted at me when I said no. Allura said you were distraught because I haven't answered you these three months. She said you thought I was in trouble.  
  
I saw every message.  
  
And I deleted _every one._  
  
Because I'm scared of going back to you. I'm scared of loving you. I don't want you to hurt me anymore.  
  
Lance says if I don't visit you in a week he'll come drag me over himself.  
  
I'm not going to.  
  
I'm going on a mission.  
  
I'm sorry. I can't...I can't see you again. I'm so _scared_.  
  
My heart is a traitor...I _still_ love you.

* * *

  
It's been a month.  
  
And I never expected to come home to _you_.

Shiro.  
  
You look worn and tired. You look like how I feel. You're hugging me and you're...you're _crying_. I can't hug you back, my arms are stuck at my sides.  
  
You say I _scared_ you, you say you were _afraid_ for me. You say you can't _believe_ I wouldn't answer you. Why wouldn't I _answer_ you? You've been calling and messaging me for _months_.  
  
I just blink up at you and you look less upset, more haunted. Is it something in my eyes? What do you see when I look at you like this, Shiro?  
  
_Are you okay?_  
  
You seem struck when I ask you, as if I had actually reached out and physically done so. Your eyes are brimming with tears and you step forward to touch my cheek, hesitant, as if you fear I'll bite.  
  
_What happened to me?_  
  
_You did_.  
  
Your lips part when I say it, as if it's a _surprise_ to you that I'm cold when _you're_ the one who pulled away first.  
  
_You_ did this.  
  
I didn't expect you to cup my face and press a kiss to my forehead. Your lips are plush and scratchy, chapped and breathing warm, moist air against my skin as you exhale so shakily.  
  
_I'm sorry._  
  
You say so and I don't know what's happening to me. My chest feels like it's ruptured, everything I've held in pouring out in a torrent I can't cease and suddenly I can't see through my tears. I can't push you away when you hold me like this.  
  
And I _still love you._  
  
....  
  
_Fuck you._  
  
Fuck you. You _did this_ to me. You're hurting me every time I think of you and now you're here in my fucking living room. I can't escape from you. Can't you just leave my heart  _alone?_  
  
_I didn't want to see you. You hurt me. Why are you here?_ I scream it as I clutch onto you and wail into your chest.  
  
I tried _so hard_ to hate you and still you are a star and I a planet. I can't stop my orbit around you.  
  
_You fucked up._

You say it so casually and you hug me so tight I can barely breathe beyond my hiccups and my sniffling over a stuffed, puffy nose. You say you left him a year ago, it wasn't a nasty breakup, you just...weren't as compatible as you thought.  
  
You say you missed me, so you tried to talk to me and I never replied. That's when you knew you had done something unforgivable, and you waited here with the help of Krolia when I left on my mission. You waited almost a month for me. You want to try again. You want us to be friends again.  
  
I _can't_.  
  
_I need time._  
  
Your face crumples when I tell you.  
  
I need time to cry and try _one last time_ to hate you. Because at the end of the day...  
  
I love you.

* * *

  
I still gravitate to you. You're like a black hole and I know you're dangerous but there's no way I can outrun your pull. You ask me to meet you in the streets of Daibazaal...I say yes despite myself.  
  
You take me out to eat, and I think you're disturbed by my withdrawn behavior. But if I dare speak beyond a nod, a soft _yes_ or _no_ , I'll break before your eyes once more.  
  
You fill my silence with stories from the past year, barring your now-past relationship. You sound like you were _bored_. You sound like the Shiro I remember.  
  
You walk with me to my home as the sun sets. You're familiar with the walk now, having lived at my house for a month. You never used the bed, but your scent lingers on the couch. It's rather torturous and I have taken to staying off of it unless I'm feeling particularly masochistic.  
  
When I get home you take my hand and you're hesitant at my languid, sluggish response. But in the end I'm wrapped up by you, nose buried in your neck and you're holding me so tight I feel like a sheet of glass. I could shatter into a million pieces.  
  
_Keith, I'm sorry._  
  
I tear away from you, nodding and wiping at my face, and I see your heartbroken expression as I leave.  
  
A small part of me screams that you have no _right_ to look so heartbroken. This is _your fault._ But a larger part of me never successfully buried rears its head and tells me that maybe...just maybe, you never gave up on me in the first place. If you planned on planting a seed of hope...I'm terrified that it is in fact working.  
  
But I can't just _forgive you._  
  
I need an explanation.  
  
I need to try to _forget_.  
  
I go to a bar, I get tipsy, I flirt...and I end up fucking someone in an alley before I stumble home again.  
  
The guilt makes it all far less than worth it.

* * *

  
You've been doing this for a month now. Every other day you invite me out. Sometimes I go, sometimes I stay in and curl up on the couch, giving a simple _maybe next time._ You're painfully understanding when I avoid you for days at a time. Maybe I'm trying to force you to realize that you're going to abandon me again anyway, might as well do it now before you get my hopes up.  
  
They're already up. They have been since you showed up in my house.  
  
You're going to crush the scattered fragments of me into fine powder if you leave me again. I don't know if my heart can _take_ it happening yet again.  
  
I take you up on your next offer, and you show up at my door nervous and sweating. When I let you in you sit on my couch, the one I had been using as a catalyst for my quiet crying the past few days. You run your hands through your hair and you murmur an apology. You say you never meant to shut me out like you did, it wasn't something you planned.  
  
At first it was the jumbled confusion of waking up with two sets of memories. Then it was the uncertainty of what to _say_ to me. What to say after you attacked me and every time you saw the scar on my face it was another reminder of what you had done.  
  
I wasn't ever _that_ scary, I'd have held on to your every word...you should have _known_. You should have known I never held it against you, even when you didn't acknowledge it. You should have taken to heart what I said when you were bearing down on me with that blade.  
  
You say you visited me when I was unconscious and I cry at that, because that doesn't seem so profound when you could have visited me during my waking moments. It would have made _so much difference._ I shrug your comforting touch away. I don't want it right now.  
  
You look hurt, and a wave of saddened understanding sweeps over your eyes.  
  
_Yes, I know, Shiro._ My damage is almost beyond repair. It's going to take you a long time to fix it. I don't know if you'll stick around as long as it takes.  
  
You apologize again.  
  
I leave you on the couch to go cry on my bed, curled into a ball and staring out my window while I let my pain out in the form of salty tracks on my cheeks. You don't move from the couch, and when I finally emerge from my room you're asleep. Your lashes are stuck together and you have the same tracks on your face.  
  
_You've_ been crying too.  
  
......  
  
I don't understand my own actions.  
  
I sit beside you, I lay atop your heart, and its beat lulls me into sleep.  
  
_I love you._

* * *

  
It's been two months. You finally tell me about him. About why you married him.  
  
You say that _now_ you feel stupid, that you should have understood that you had begun to fall back to a place you had been smart enough to run away from before. You say the first date was impulse, a _What the hell? I might as well._ kind of thing, and the next was because it wasn't too bad. The next and the next and the next and you hardly even realized what had happened before you had been dating him for a year and you were getting married.  
  
You laugh and tell me it's okay if I want to call it a shotgun wedding. It is exactly what it was. You say that you remember seeing me leave, and that it felt like a stone settling in your gut.  
  
You say that stone stayed for the entirety of the year you were married. And in the end, maybe it's part of the reason you both parted. That and the fact that you were _not meant_ _to last._ Spoken in your own words, it shocks me to hear.  
  
You say that you stewed over the divorce for months, and then you messaged me.  
  
The stone became a boulder when I didn't respond. When I continued to ignore your messages. Confusion turned to fear and...for a while you were so scared I had gone missing or worse...you were scared that I had _died_.  
  
Your voice breaks and I feel comfortable enough to hold your hand, to stroke my thumb over the backs of your knuckles and heave a sigh while you duck your head.  
  
You want what we had _back_.  
  
I turn my head into your shoulder and you pour everything out.  
  
You don't feel like I'm someone you know anymore. You used to depend on my devotion and I on yours. You know you lost me, because you used to open your eyes and I would be the first thing you'd see. You don't know what happened to that, why you let it slip through your fingers. You say it _hurts_ that you don't have it anymore.  
  
I murmur that I would have come running if you were in trouble. But you weren't. And so I stayed away.  
  
You say that sometimes the trouble we're in isn't _physical_.  
  
_You miss me._  
  
_I miss you._

* * *

  
It's another month before you're suddenly staying with me. I don't know how it happened but one night you stay on my couch and now you're here all the time.  
  
I'm okay with that.  
  
Sometimes I'll walk out to the couch in the dead of night and you'll wake, open your arms and I'll sink into them. You make a space for me and I fill every crack in your being. Just like you used to do for me.  
  
I haven't let you back into the hollow space in my chest. I'm still scared to.  
  
I'm still scared that this is all a nice dream and I'll wake up one day. I still go to the bar every few weeks for a lay and I still come back feeling worse each time. You seem to know what it means when I come home misty-eyed and hugging myself. You seem to understand when I step out of the shower after scrubbing myself raw for being so utterly filthy, because there's a fresh, _warm_ towel always waiting for me when it happens. And you're always waiting for me to sink back into your arms on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and resting against your heartbeat.  
  
You need to stop becoming someone I can depend on again.  
  
It's tearing me in two. My _fear_ of you and my _love_ of you.

* * *

  
You've been living with me for so long I can't count anymore, but I'd estimate five months. Five months until I take you by the hand and slowly, tentatively, lead you to my bed.  
  
You lay facing me and I you, and you stroke your hand over my forehead, you make me smile and close my eyes and you press a kiss to each lid.  
  
I wake wrapped up in you, and you balk at your morning wood so hard it makes me laugh. I laugh until I _cry_ and you smile sheepishly as I take amusement at your expense.  
  
You kiss my forehead, and I turn to chase your lips.  
  
It's our first kiss.  
  
It's short, it's chaste, and you look starstruck when you pull away, galaxies shining in gunmetal grey and your face flushed with color. I can't help my smile, and I turn in the bed to bury my face in the pillow. Your fingers stroke a trail of heat down my back and then you're gone to the bathroom while I hide my smile in the sheets.

* * *

I think I'm on my way to forgiveness.

I think we're tied together once more. Maybe our red string of fate was never cut in the first place. Perhaps it got tangled and now we're down to the last knots that keep us from belonging to one another entirely. 

I love you. And I think...

I think you might love me.

* * *

I can't sleep. 

You're warm and slack against me and I'm writhing, aching, _needy_.  
  
You wake and ask me what's wrong.  
  
I tell you without _telling_ you, you _know_ without me knowing. I don't know what to say when your hand rests atop my hip, squeezing, so warm. It trails down to the waistband of my sweatpants, gone still as my breath hitches. You're looking to me for permission and I have to hold back my whine as I nod and your fingers slip into my pants. _Into me._  
  
You're clumsy, but that can be forgiven when you're bringing one of my fantasies to life, when you haven't dealt with this before. When your calloused fingers bring me more satisfaction than _all_ the lays I tried to bury myself in to forget you.  
  
You pepper kisses along my arm where it curls around the back of your neck, grasping at your hair and pulling as you rub titillating circles against me. You obey when I gasp out _harder_ , _faster_ , and you dip a finger or two inside me when I'm crying out. You muffle my whimpers with a languid kiss and I rock back onto you where I feel you're hard against me.  
  
You slow me down then, you draw back and you kiss at my cheek, along the length of the scar. You're still rubbing the slowest circles where I'm now over-sensitive and sparking with electric currents of pleasure.  
  
_Let me take care of you._  
  
I _whine_ when you say it, when you bare me to the dim moonlight as you dip your head between my legs. You bring me to fruition until I'm _exhausted_ , and you don't even take care of _yourself_. You slip back beside me where I'm sweaty and boneless and you kiss at my damp brow while I fall asleep.

  
We don't speak much of it, but it becomes a regular occurrence for your fingers and your tongue to delve between my legs at night. And you always exhaust me to the point I'm unable to return the favor.  
  
When I finally corner you on the couch after another month of this and dip my head to take you in my mouth - your hand curling in my hair and your teeth seeking to make dents in the metal of your other hand - you finish in my hand and I smile up at you, expecting to see satisfaction.  
  
You look _ashamed_.  
  
It makes me grow quiet, and I leave to clean up. When I come back to you you're tucked away again, staring out the window all pensive and solemn.  
  
I ask you what's wrong.  
  
You say you don't feel like you _deserve_ me. You say you're afraid that you'll make the same mistake twice. That you don't _want_ to hurt me again.  
  
I grasp onto your hand as I sit beside you. I say the _only_ thing you could do to hurt me now would be to pull away. You turn into my embrace with a hitching sigh, clutching me to your chest and murmuring apologies into my ear.  
  
I blink away the saltwater on my lashes and smile as I turn my head to press a wet kiss to your neck.  
  
_I love you._  
  
You nod when I say it. You nod because you know, and you choke on a sob and you ask me to forgive you.  
  
_Forgive you._ After _everything_ you did to me. After _scarring_ me, after _forgetting_ me, after _leaving me_ to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart.  
  
But you _came back_ to me, and you taped my heart together again, more fragile than ever but it's _whole_ once more.  
  
So I do. _I forgive you._  
  
_Keith, I love you._  
  
This somehow hurts just as much as when my heart broke, and yet it heals me when you say it. I'm crying, and you rub a hand up and down my back.  
  
_I love you. I love you. I love you._  
  
You chant it into my ear and I nod as I soak the hem of your sleep-shirt.  
  
_I love you so much._

* * *

  
You've been living with me for a year, going with me on my humanitarian missions for months, an honorary Blade member, before you ask.  
  
I don't expect it, but you wake me with a hand on my cheek, and then you clutch my hand in both of yours and you blink rapidly as you ask.  
  
You ask me to _be your husband._  
  
Who am I to refuse when I've wanted this for years?

So I say yes. _I say yes_ and my smile is broken by the way I hiccup and choke back a sob.  
  
You kiss me and you let me straddle you and ride you into the mattress, you let me work myself raw, gasping your name each time I crest my high and I let you spill inside me twice.  
  
You nuzzle into my shoulder when I lay atop you afterward, sweaty and sticking together and laughing softly in our aftermath.

* * *

  
We set the date back on Earth. We want our friends to be there and we want our honeymoon to be an adventure on the way back home.  
  
You know I've never cried in front of anyone but you? And now I'm choked up in front of all these people because hearing you _say_ these things to me...  
  
I clutch onto your hands because I can barely stand up, I want to fall into your arms and hold you and never let go but it's my turn to say my vows.  
  
You already _know_ everything I say.  
  
You already know that I'll save you _as many times as it takes_. You know that you're _everything to me._ You know that _I love you._  
  
You're even more sappy than I am, you blubber and you laugh softly as you wipe your eyes. I'm sure I see all our friends have tears in their eyes, and I kiss you.  
  
We seal this forever, because I'll never be able to let go of you, and now I know without doubt you'll never let go of me. And you cup my face and tilt my head, you dip me when it lasts too long and I only break this kiss to laugh, toss my head back and throw my arms around your neck as you bring me back up.  
  
_I love you. I love you. I love you._

* * *

  
When our first and only daughter, at six years old, asks me how we met, I smile over at you where you're steering the ship.  
  
I tell her that _it's a long story._ That maybe she'll know the rest when she's older. When she's older she'll better understand the legend of Voltron, and the hidden tribulations of its Paladins. Of the horrors, the friendship, the heartbreak, and the _love_ we experienced together.  
  
_But for now,_ I tell our daughter, as she looks up at me with silver eyes and a pudgy, button-nosed version of my own face...I tell her _Daddy stole Papa's car._

**Author's Note:**

> I know, cheesy title is cheesy.  
> (Art by me)  
> Come find me on:  
> [Tumblr](http://crazyaniknowit.tumblr.com/)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Crazyaniknowit)  
> 


End file.
